


Well, they fucked up (or didn't they?)

by Schattenmalerin



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor just being Connor (awesome nonetheless), Gen, Hank being grumpy as ever, Heavy spoilers for Connor's chapter "The Nest" and a bit further, I want them to become friends (or even more) so badly, Pre-Friendship, a lot of swearing (because of Hank)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 06:52:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14827478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schattenmalerin/pseuds/Schattenmalerin
Summary: *"Its appearance and voice should facilitate the fucking integration?" Hank repeated the android's words from before, snorting. Well, they clearly fucked up pretty bad.*Hank's opinion about his new android partner throughout "The Nest" and how it changes as the day progresses.





	Well, they fucked up (or didn't they?)

**Author's Note:**

> Although I'm not finished with the game yet, I just needed to write something short about these two, because who doesn't love their chemistry ;)  
> I loved the way Connor was winking at Hank at the lunch break scene and I definitely need more of that :D
> 
> The following contains spoilers for the chapter "The Nest", so be warned if you don't want to get spoilered.

**_Well, they fucked up (or didn't they?)_ **

 

It was silent in the elevator.  
_Finally some fucking silence! No nosy "Can I ask you a personal question?", no polite "I'm looking forward to work with you, Lieutenant", no goddamn "Why you despise me so much?" Just fucking silence._

Hank twisted his mouth in resentment. Not only had he been assigned to these goddamn android cases, but he was also doomed to deal with that annoying and persistent piece of plastic right next to him. And on top of that, said plastic prick caused him to abort the favourite time in his whole job: lunch break.

"Hope that goddamn information is worth it," he mumbled grumpy in his beard, more to himself.

He almost expected a response, some smartass comment or that upstanding " _I was assigned to this mission and I intend to complete it_ " _,_ just like a good little robot. But he didn't get one and while inwardly glad for the continuing silence it caused him to throw a sceptical sideglance at the android.  
Its eyes were closed, the ring on the right temple blinking yellow in short sequences and its posture was upright and stiff, somehow even frozen.  
_What the actual fuck is it doing now?_ , Hank thought, not even suppressing the irritated sigh slipping out his mouth. _Probably scanning some data or shit. Goddamn androids._

He leaned himself against the wall of the elevator, folding his arms in refusal.  
_Android-detectives, huh?_ , he thought disapproving while letting his eyes wander over the android. He had seen many of those plastic fuckers over the last years, much to his own chagrin. Those things were everywhere nowaday: in supermarkets, streets, most of the bars - _thankgoddamnit for the existence of Jimmy's Bar!_ \- and now, as if to fuck with him even more, in his police department.  
_What did they think, forcing that piece of plastic on him to help with the investigation? Nothing but shit, apparently._

Hank grunted embittered, eyes still on his "companion".  
_Especially this one._ Whoever was in charge of designing this one was definitely a downright asshole for giving it that goofy, almost provocative appearance - perfectly fitting brown hair, curl pushed back, even facial features, curved, pink lips - and this weird, monotone voice, that tried his already small patience like, every second it speaks.  
_And then this cocky little wink_ , Hank thought, remembered how taken aback he was at the almost seductively mimic, so untypical for the android, _was this in its program, too? What else was there then?_

Hank sighed, clearly not in the mood to find out. Ever.  
_Designed to work harmoniously with humans, my ass! It can't even follow orders, goddamnit!_  
That was another thing clearly pissing him off. _Aren't those androids normally programmed to obey?_ There had been more than enough situations where he told the android to " _shut up and stay in the car_ " - of course it got out of the damn car! - or " _don't touch anything_ " - a few seconds later he saw it tasting the blood on their crime scene - or to " _stop following like a poodle_ " - it followed like a damn poodle! - and in none of that situations it obeyed him. Just always going on about "instructions contradicting with Hank's order" or "important mission" or "wanting to apologize for the incident at the police department", _blablabla_.  
Clearly this one had to be an advanced android, a prototype, some "state-of-the-art"-plastic prick, perfectly suited for being a fucking pain in the ass, giving it some sort of programming to select between different priorities and oppose to his direct orders.

"Its appearance and voice should facilitate the fucking integration?" Hank repeated the android's words from before, snorting. _Well, they clearly fucked up pretty bad._

The elevator came to a halt and pulled him out of his thoughts. Waiting for the doors to open, he mumbled an impatient "come on!", before stepping out of the elevator and into the dark and divey hallway. _Better get this done fast, I'm way too sober for this shit._

He was about to make his way to the destined door as he suddenly noticed the missing movements behind him. Confused he turned back around, looking in the elevator where his "partner" was still standing motionless. _What the fuck?_  
He noticed the yellow blinking of his ring, even quicker than before and raised an eyebrow. _Was there something wrong with it? Like some fucking system collapse or shit? Goddamn, no! I don't even know how to change settings on my phone, so what do I do if this plastic thing isn't working anymore?_

"Absolutely great, exactly what I needed today," he murmured sarcastically, then louder towards the android in an attempt to get its attention: "Hey, you ran outta batteries or what?"

Hank watched the ring on the temple going from a blinking yellow to steady blue, before the android finally opened its eyes again, raising those perfectly shaped eyebrows in a soft question for a moment.  
"I'm sorry," it began in that typical voice and Hank already missed the silence. "I was making a report to CyberLife."

"Uh ..."  _That was possible?_ _Sending a report just by closing eyes? Goddamnit, now I'm starting to get jealous of a fucking android._  
Hank eyed the android, light brown eyes looking back at him, expectant, as if waiting for him to say something more. Uncomfortable with the sudden situation he moved from one leg to another and added: "Well, do you plan on staying in the elevator?"

"No." Still no movement from the android, despite his next words. "I'm coming."

 _What the fuck?!_  
Hank just shook his head, turning away again and moving forward, this time hearing his "partner" following.

 

****

 

"Holy shit ..."

With wide eyes Hank stared down at the train, more specifically at the two androids running on top of it: one being the deviant, jumping off the train and onto a platform and further climbing over the wall, the other one being Connor, still kneeling on the driving train, head turned toward the ladder, waiting for the train to pass it.

_Oh fuck, what is he doing there?_

Still slightly shocked at the whole situation he continued to watch Connor, watch how he readied himself to make that jump and when he finally did, Hank stopped breathing for a second, unsure how to handle the sudden feeling of concern, of fear flowing through him.

_Don't you fucking dare falling down, Connor!_

He didn't. Of course he didn't. With a sigh of relief Hank watched the android climbing up the ladder, fast and fluid movements as he pulled his lean, slender body further up the wall and disappeared behind it.

Not completely recovered from the unexpected panic, Hank stood there for a few seconds, hands leaned on his knees, breathing hard and fast - if from the chasing and running or the tension seeing Connor jump from a driving train to a ladder he couldn't really tell.  
As his pulse normalized again and he comprehended what just happened, he mentally slapped himself for even showing concern.  
_Goddamn, he's a fucking android, not even human. He can't really die, he-_

Shaking his head, angry with the whole situation - _Why does some shit like this always happen to me?!_ \- he pushed his thoughts aside, starting to run along the roof, hoping to cut the deviant off if neccessary.  
_Hopefully Connor ~~stays safe~~ manages to catch the deviant in time._

 

****

 

Over the last few years he often thought about how he would probably leave this fucking world someday - maybe he'll drink himself to death or die due to a heart attack, which probably wasn't that unlikely considering his high cholesterol level, or maybe one day he'll just run outta luck and get exactly the one chamber loaded with the bullet when playing Russian Roulette with himself. However, pushed off a roof by a fucking plastic asshole wasn't the plan. _It definitely wasn't._

Struggling to keep his hand from slipping from the edge of the rooftop he tried to pull himself up, feeling the muscles in his arm trembling and faltering already due to his body weight and lack of routine.  
_Maybe I should've forgone the last hamburger today_ , he thought sarcastically, but got quickly serious as he felt his grip slipping further and his strength dwindling. With panic in his wide opened eyes, he tried to pull him up once more. Without success.  
_Oh shit oh shit oh fucking goddamn shit! Please, you fucking useless weak arm, don't let go of the ledge! Don't you fucking dare stop functioning!_

Desperate Hank tried to get his other arm up, trying to get a grip at the ledge but instead was met by a strong hand closing around his underarm and pulling him upwards, over the edge and onto the safety of the rooftop.

"Shit oh shit," Hank spat out, gasping hard, his own heartbeat rapidly pounding in his ears. Throwing a look in front of him, he saw the deviant disappearing behind the next corner. No way they could catch up with it now.

"We had it", he uttered, panic and anger and relief all combined in his next exclamation: "Fuck!"

"It's my fault", he heard Connor say and it didn't sound like a lame excuse for Hank or like some pity talk to take the blame off of Hank and make him feel better.  
"I should have been faster." It sounded like Connor really saw it as his fault, as failing his mission.

Hank lifted himself up, staring in confusion and disbelief to the android, who gazed along the path the deviant had taken.  
_He could've caught the fucking thing. He could've chosen to further chase it. Instead he aborted his mission and helped me. Fucking saved my life. Why?_

"You'd caught it if it weren't for me..." He voiced his thoughts, watching Connor turning his head back to him, brown eyes piercing his own blue ones. He was silent, as if waiting for Hank to explain further, as if slightly confused, because he still thought he could have done better. He should have done better.  
_Strange android, this one._

"That's alright." _Why do I feel the need to fucking comfort him?! Must be the shock of almost falling down from a damn roof!_ "We know what it looks like."

Connor still looked unconvinced, staring at him with a serious, motionless expression. Only now Hank noticed the ring was flickering yellow instead of the normal blue color.

"We'll find it." He said it convinced, but honestly, he really wasn't and more honestly, he didn't really care that much. After all, he was just glad to be on safe ground again. _Hell, I need a fucking whiskey! Right fucking now!_  
With tired steps he walked to the stairs leading off the roof, but stopped at the stairhead. Turning around he threw the android a look.

"Hey Connor...", he began, only registering now that he had begun to call him a "he" in his mind, no longer a "it".

Connor turned around to him, a fast and fluid motion, but somehow stiff. Brown eyes focused on him, a soft questioning expression lurking under the typically collected features.  
Hank returned the eye contact, looking into the bright and warm brown eyes, suddenly wondering _Why the fuck giving an android such warm and pleasant eyes, if they weren't programmed to really feel and express anything?_

 _Thanks._  
"Nothing," Hank mumbled, avoiding further eye contact on purpose and turning around, taking the steps downwards.

 _Whoever designed this one may not have fucked up_ that _bad after all._

 


End file.
